


Commander's Prophet

by kimpossible



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Modern Girl in Thedas, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-01 07:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13993659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimpossible/pseuds/kimpossible
Summary: That Emma is strange, but fun and light-hearted. He doesn't know what to do with her or how to talk to her, but he is too intrigued to let it go.This is Cullen's POV from Herald's Prophet. *on hiatus while author is more in the mood to write new plot*





	1. The Explosion

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Herald's Prophet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821765) by [kimpossible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimpossible/pseuds/kimpossible). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a sort of Prologue to Herald's Prophet.

The Commander picked his way through ashen piles of rubble. Figures somehow preserved by the heat told of the exact moment they died. A couple of Leliana’s scouts and a dozen of his own men looked for clues, survivors, enemies, anything. “There is nothing to be found here.” He shook his head as he scanned his eyes over the destruction. He leaned down and peered at the charred face of a reclined body.  _ Who were you? Mage, Templar, Chantry Mother?  _ Cullen heaved a sigh. He had not had much faith in the Conclave’s ability to find peace, that was why an Inquisition was being considered in the first place. Still, he hadn’t expected this.

  


He looked up at the swirling green mass in the sky.  _ It’s getting bigger. _

  


“Commander!” A voice sounded a ways off and Cullen sprinted towards it. A few of his men hovered over bodies lying on the ground, unburned.

  


“There was another green tear in the air. They just… fell out.”

  


“There was another woman there too, she looked like the Maker’s wife herself, but the whole thing closed and swallowed itself with her still inside.”

  


Cullen looked down, three humans lay unconscious in a cluster. Two of them were wearing clothing that was foreign to him, and he was sure he hadn’t seen them before in Haven.  _ At least not in this type of attire.  _ The other appeared to be a noble of some sort based on his clothing - possibly from the Free Marches. 

  


“Search them,” he ordered as he leaned down over the body closest to him. It was a woman and she was breathing steadily. As he leaned over her, he noticed how small she was. He rolled her onto her back and her dark hair stayed strewn across her face. He brushed it aside, he needed to recognize her if she somehow managed to escape. She was pale and Cullen couldn’t tell if it was natural or caused by injury. A gash on her forehead was dripping blood down her temple and her face seemed sad, or maybe worried. _Maker, she looks more like she needs protection than like she did this._

  


He shook his head and resumed his examination. He knew from personal experience that looks could be deceiving. 

  


“Ser, there are strange artifacts with them.”

  


“Gather them up. We’ll bring them with us.” He resumed his search of the woman and found himself blushing lightly as he discovered her pants were made of thin fabric and practically painted on. He tried not to think about it as he reached his hands into pockets. They were small but might contain any kind of dangerous magical device so he dutifully pushed fingers into each of them.

  


Cullen glared towards the sky as the Breach flashed and appeared to grow again. “Commander!” He looked over and saw that one of the men’s hands was glowing green and pulsing with the Breach. 

  


“Alright soldiers. We’re out of time. Grab everything you can and let’s get these people back to Haven!” Cullen scooped up the woman easily and she made a small whimper as he shifted her.  _ I hope Cassandra knows what to do with them. _

  


\--

  


“They must be involved somehow.” Cassandra paced violently between the cells.

  


“There is no use in you being here while they remain unconscious, Cassandra. Let us go and make preparations where they cannot listen in.”

  


Cullen listened to Leliana’s calming influence idly. He was leaning against the bars of her cell; the woman he had carried down a mountain was passed out and muttering inside it. 

  


“Strange. She seems to be dreaming even though she seems to be unconscious and not sleeping.” A small part of him wanted to go in and soothe her troubled dreams. It was the part of him that wanted to protect, and the part of him that knew what kinds of dreams caused those noises.  _ She could be dangerous,  _ he reminded himself half-heartedly. 

  


“She could be too deep in the Fade to be roused by ordinary means.” It was the elf who was speaking. He had simply appeared and offered his aid, according to Cassandra. His interest in the glowing mark on another of the prisoner’s hand made Cullen suspicious but his theories were the only thing they had regarding the Breach and Cassandra had accepted his support. 

  


“Seeker, we have received reports of demons falling from the Breach and other tears in the veil appearing around Haven.” A scout had rushed in with all the grace of a charging druffalo.

  
“Maker guide me,” Cassandra lifted her face upwards. “Of course we have.” She turned and strode towards the exit, Leliana right behind her. Cullen took one last look at the woman in the cell who shivered and furrowed her brows in a look of pain.  _ Did you do this?  _ He turned and followed the two women to face their next challenge.


	2. Meeting

“I am simply offering. The decision is, of course, up to yourselves.” The elf shrugged, appearing nonchalant. Cullen didn’t trust it as more than a façade. 

 

“Thank you, Solas. We will discuss and let you know.” Solas inclined his head towards Cassandra in acknowledgement before turning and leaving.

 

“It is certainly tempting,” Leliana put forward. “We should take advantage of any opportunity we are given.”

 

“If we can trust him to give us the truth of what he finds.” Cullen was determinedly focused on his logical concerns and ignoring that tiny pull in his gut. Some part of him hadn’t quite let go of the feeling that the woman needed protection, and that he should be the one to protect her.

 

Cassandra pressed her lips together, considering. “Solas has been nothing but helpful since he arrived. I agree that we should be cautious but there are many more benefits to be gained than potential drawbacks.” 

 

“It does seem unnecessarily invasive…”

 

“The woman is a potential threat, Josie. You should not be so easily swayed by sentiment.”

 

Josephine nodded her understanding but Cullen felt Leliana’s words driving at him as well. He searched his head for another reason to protest - for some reason other than that he didn’t like it. He couldn’t find one.

 

\--

 

He approached the cabin with some trepidation. He had surprised himself when he offered to get the woman and bring her to the meeting. He wanted to check on Lord Trevelyan, he had told himself. He wasn’t at all concerned about meeting her now that she was awake, this woman he had carried down a mountain. 

 

When he entered, he saw only Solas leaning over the bed of Lord Trevelyan. “I have come to bring the woman to the war room. Where is she?” He addressed the elf stiffly, still not prepared to trust the apostate.

 

Solas gestured towards a separate room. “She is in there but I wouldn’t -”

 

Cullen had already moved in that direction and was surprised to see creamy shoulders and arms spread long the top of a tub and wet hair draped over the back, dripping onto the floor. His eyes widened in surprise and he immediately spun himself around. “Oh Maker! I- I apologise, my lady. I saw nothing.” This is not how he thought this moment would go.  _ Not that I thought about this.  _

 

He heard her sigh. “Hang on Commander. I’ll be ready in a moment.”

 

Cullen turned towards her in surprise at her use of his title. He saw her arms perched to push out of the tub before recovering and facing the door again. “You know who I am?” 

 

“I’m coming out of the tub now, Commander. Please resist the urge to turn around again.” Her voice was full of teasing and it rang out light and musical. 

 

“What? No. Of course. Maker, I-” He didn’t know what to say. He was at a complete loss in a way that hadn’t occurred for him in a long while.  _ It must be because I took no lyrium today. My head simply isn’t functioning properly. _

 

“Solas, is there any chance there might be some clean clothes around?” Cullen tried not to imagine her naked and dripping beside the tub as he heard the splashing of her exit.

 

“You are very demanding for a prisoner.” 

 

“I’m here to help...” 

 

The room was not large, and Cullen could not avoid seeing the woman as she approached the cabinet Solas pointed her towards. She was wearing only a towel and Cullen swallowed hard at the sight of her. She was small, but her legs were long and muscular and he drank in the shape of them hungrily. The sensible part of his brain told him to turn around but another part in the background was imagining what it would be like to walk over to her and bend her over, push the towel slowly up over her ass and-

 

“Do you mind?” 

 

“Huh? Oh, umm… right. S- Sorry. Sorry, umm…” He searched for the words. “My lady.” 

 

He was surprised when she responded. “I have a name, you know.” 

 

“I- Sorry. I do not know it.”

 

“Well, it’s Emma… Emma Bennett.” He rolled the name around in his mouth.  _ Emma.  _ “I suppose introductions must seem a bit weird when I already know most people here, huh? You can turn around now.”

 

He smiled to himself at her voice. She sounded like she was being casual, familiar even, but her turns of phrase were unfamiliar. “Your manner of speaking is quite bizarre, Lady Bennett,” he commented as he turned to look at her. She was wearing a man’s shirt that hung loose and open across her chest, but clung to her in places where she wasn’t quite dry. He saw the shape of her breasts through the thin fabric and immediately noticed she wasn’t wearing a breast band. He quickly returned his attention to her face, chastising himself as she continued to get ready.


	3. Protect

Cullen was awake. He was awake, and he was frustrated. He closed his eyes and saw her, barely covered by her towel. He closed his eyes and saw her in even less, his mind filling in the blanks for him. How quickly he moved from wanting to protect to being the exact sort of man she would need protection from. 

 

He was irritated when he brought her to her accommodations and realised she was together with one of the other prisoners. Of course she was with one of the other prisoners. It was not like him to develop feelings for someone appropriate. He was irritated with himself for being irritated. He had no right.

 

He was irritable.

 

He wanted lyrium.

 

Cullen groaned and dropped an arm over his face. He was aching and hard but he would not touch himself, not to thoughts of a taken woman. He certainly had more willpower than that. He would not pursue this silly fantasy. He would not take lyrium. He would focus on his job.

 

Thoughts of work quickly turned to the war table that evening. How she had dismissed Roderick so easily. The way her face scrunched up when she was thinking. How she had blushed when he looked at her and then teased him about the guards. About how it felt to realise she was sharing her room with another man.

 

He shook his head. He had circled back too easily.

 

It had been too long. He hadn’t had lyrium in two days. He hadn’t had sex in four years. Maker, had it really been that long? Not since before he had turned against Meredith. Not since before he had promised to be a better man. 

 

He would be professional. He would do his job.

 

He would not get any sleep that night.

 

\--

 

He was anxious and he was tired. But he did his duty and he knocked and he tried to ignore the tug of jealousy in his chest when she was unwrapping herself from the arms of her lover. He was here to do a job, no matter how unpleasant.

 

She was too perceptive. 

 

“Let me guess,” she sighed. “Cassandra wanted you to check up on me and continue to assess whether I am a threat or an abomination or whatever?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“I don’t get it!” She threw her arms in the air in exasperation. “If she doesn’t trust me, why doesn’t she just interrogate me more herself?”

 

Okay, maybe she isn’t that perceptive. The Seeker had admitted to him having a similar desire to trust her, to protect her. The difference was that she wasn’t letting it interfere with her job, while Cullen had already tried to talk his associates out of taking necessary precautions.

 

“So Cassandra trusts me?” He tried not to smile at the way she tapped her chin and made thoughtful noises. “But you don’t.” 

 

“What? Maker... I- I do actually.” Cullen squeezed his eyes closed.  _ Why did I say that?  _  “I don’t know why, and I certainly shouldn’t be telling you that, but yes, I do.”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

“You try saying no to Cassandra.” Her laugh was delightful.

 

\--

 

He tried to be professional. He tried to investigate. It was never really a strength of his. He asked all the wrong questions. When she said she wasn’t married, that her relationship with John was complicated, he tucked that piece of information somewhere warm in his mind even while he told himself not to.

 

\--

 

She held so much fury and passion in her tiny body. Cullen barely managed to stop her before she hit Solas in the face. He needed to protect her. She didn’t know this mage. He didn’t know this mage. She was reckless in the extreme. She kept yelling. Even when he wrapped himself around her, she struggled and yelled and accused.

 

He was pretty sure this was their fault.

 

“Stop it,” he needed her to protect herself. “You must stop.”

 

He did the only thing he could, he asked Solas to leave and he held her tight.

 

She did not calm.

 

“Stop it!” He was ordering her now. He knew he was turning her around too roughly. He knew he needed her to stop. He needed her to understand.

 

She didn’t. “You might be my captor but you cannot make me just accept quietly what he did to me.”

 

“I don’t care what he did to you!” He was too loud. Too angry. He needed to make her understand. “That man is an apostate mage, and one we know very little about. You cannot antagonize him like that. It isn’t safe. You could-” 

 

“What, Commander? Make the elf angry? Upset Cassandra? Oh god forbid I-”

 

He was physically shaking her before he knew what he was doing “Be hurt, you silly girl. You could be hurt! You are not a mage. You have no fighting skills that I’ve seen. It… it isn’t safe.”

 

How was he supposed to protect a woman like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely AO3 folks! Just a heads up that I'm not planning to cover every scene Cullen's POV in great detail so if you've been following along with the main fic and there's something you want to make sure I include, be sure to let me know :)


	4. Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best read after Ch6 of main fic.

She was being ridiculous, sitting in the mud with a woman who would be better served by learning to tamp down her fear long enough to kill its source. That’s what he had done. Demons, abominations, he would kill anything that came near him or go down fighting rather than find himself imprisoned again. Sitting in the mud breathing and kneading hands wasn’t going to help.

 

Cullen looked down and realized he had been rubbing his own hand, unconsciously mimicking what hers might feel like. He quickly moved his hand to rest on the pommel of his sword. It was solid, reassuring. It was all he needed.

 

He didn’t know why he chastised her when she returned to his side, covered in mud and looking more relaxed and confident than he had yet seen. When she yelled at him he flinched. He deserved it. He would never not be that man from Kirkwall.

 

\--

 

The ambassador was continually trying to nudge him into line. She cajoled, teased, chastised - always gentle - trying to get him ready to be a more public face. He hated it, though he liked her well enough and understood her purpose.

 

“But you forget your manners, Cullen. I gave you a perfectly good opportunity to compliment two women at once and you brushed right passed it to talk about business.”

 

She didn’t know, of course, how the woman saw him. How much he wanted to hide rather than expose himself further to her judgment. The ambassador was right though. The woman looked beautiful.

 

When she apologised, she looked so beautiful he could barely breathe. She looked at him imploringly, and he saw her grey eyes were both earnest and sharp. He didn’t deserve her apologies, her forgiveness, her friendship. He could only try to be better. That’s what she had said, offering some measure of hope and reassurance. Maker but it was hard.

 

Knowing she had softened, knowing she hadn’t seen the full truth of Kirkwall, he gave into his need to protect her. He would not leave her alone with those who scared her, with those he could not trust. Then he was reminded. He was one of those people. He had only been blessed with a moment of forgetting.

 

“You knew what he did? You knew he… invaded me? My mind? While I fucking slept?” She raged at him, all the force of a thunderstorm turned towards him. He felt his heart beating in a way it didn’t when facing down hordes of enemies. It was a more intimate fear, laced with his own guilt. This fear he couldn’t cut down with a sword, and she wouldn’t be sitting in the mud rubbing his palm for him either.

 

“I hope it was worth it.” 

 

It wasn’t.

 

\--

 

“Whoa, Curly. Where you storming off to?”

 

“Not your business, dwarf.” He snarled at him. It wasn’t deserved, he knew. He did it anyway.

 

Varric, not one to be easily swayed, jogged after him. “Well that wasn’t about me. Was it the prophet or the elf that pissed you off?”

 

Cullen stopped. “What? Neither.”

 

“Well, those are the only people you just left who were actually conscious so unless it was the decor…”

 

“It wasn’t…” He groaned in frustration. “I’m mad at myself. Maker’s breath- why am I even talking to you?”

 

Varric grinned. “Because in addition to my other considerable qualities, I’m actually a pretty damn good listener.”

 

Cullen’s eyes flicked back towards the cabin as he considered. “We had the elf investigate her dreams to see what we could find out. She wasn’t happy about it.”

 

“Sure. I heard the yelling this morning.”

 

“I regret the decision.” Cullen raised his hand to his forehead, pressing on the spot where a headache was beginning to form.

 

“You wish you’d left it alone?”

 

“I- No. It was important for the safety of the people here and it was my job to make that decision.”

 

“So you don’t regret it.”

 

“I regret that she was hurt.” Cullen pressed his lips together, again letting his eyes drift towards the cabin.

 

“Have you told her that?”

 

Cullen heaved an exhausted sigh. “No. It would be inappropriate.” Varric gave him a knowing look, a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. He glowered back. “No. You will not go there. You are wrong.”

 

He promptly stalked away before Varric could read anything more on his face.

 

He knew though. The dwarf was not wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to folks reading main fic: Sorry to leave you waiting longer on that cliffhanger. The chapter is done and will be posted on Friday but there's something that's irking me that I want to try and fix. Hopefully this little niblet will tie y'all over!


	5. Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best read after CH11 of the main fic.

It was both mundane and somehow one of the stranger things he had seen in Haven. She, Lady Emma, was curled in a tight ball of blankets underneath a tree and reading a book. She was completely unselfconscious. 

 

She looked so cozy, he felt a sudden urge to be part of the scene but he held back. She was upset with him. He had hurt her. He’d forgotten in all the chaos of the Herald waking up and the official announcement of the Inquisition. Yesterday felt like a world ago.

 

When she called him, asked for his help, he felt a flutter of eagerness in his stomach. He would do it for her, make amends for his intrusion. Whatever he could do, even it was for her lover. 

 

\--

 

Cullen was angry. The cook could have killed someone. He could have killed her.  _ While he fucked her.  _ He mentally added the last thought with all the entitled bitterness he knew he had no right to. They were acquaintances who had agreed to be friends. He had no claim to her.

 

And yet, in the following days he looked forward to every meeting with her. He found himself distracted each time she walked past the training grounds. He flirted with her when he didn’t remember to stop himself.

 

And he was jealous of the Herald too. It was unreasonable. Certainly if he knew that she was with the cook, the Herald did as well. There was no reason to think that he was competition - not that there was anything to compete for. And yet, they stood so close, he called her terms of endearment, he made her laugh.

 

“Commander?” The voice of his second-in-command pulled him from his thoughts.

 

“Sorry, yes. Let’s increase the frequency of patrols in the area by fifty-percent. The Herald won’t be back for at least a week and that rift will need to be watched until he returns.”

 

“We’ll have to pull from- What is that?” There were shadows, on the ground beside a building. They seemed to be, no. Someone was being attacked. 

 

Cullen lunged forward and hauled the man up. It was a woman. He had been attacking a tiny, slip of a creature- maybe an elf. He shoved the man towards Rylen. “Take him to the cells. We’ll deal with him later.”

 

He crouched down next to the figure crumpled on the ground. It was dark but he knew as soon as she wasn’t blocked by that man. It was her. Her face was bruised and bleeding but when her eyes met his, they reflected the storming ferocity of the Breach and she was beautiful. And then she breathed his name -not his title, his name- and his heart stopped.

 

He pulled her into his arms and he remembered. He remembered the first time he carried her like this. He had wanted to protect her. Here was the evidence that he had failed.

 

\--

 

“Commander. I have the report from the southern patrol.”

 

“Good. Thank you, Lysette.” Cullen sighed, rubbing fingertips above his eyebrow and extending his other hand for the document. He’d had a late night, having spent the better part of it watching over an unconscious Lady Emma. “Before you leave, how was John during training today?”

 

“Understandably upset but he appears okay, Ser.”

 

“Good, good. Keep an eye on him. Worry over his lover could be an opportunity for demons.”

 

“They aren’t lovers, Ser, but your point is well taken. He is concerned for her.”

 

Cullen’s head shot up.  _ Don’t ask.  _ He willed himself to keep to his own business, but he was tired and weak. “What do you mean they aren’t lovers?”

 

“He has spoken of their relationship as a friendship. Perhaps it isn’t my place to spread rumors but because of the risks involved I will share that I believe he is dissatisfied with the current situation. He would prefer that that they return to being a couple and that will be another risk as well.”

 

“I understand. Thank you, Lysette.” He was thankful. He needed all information to best do his job. The twisting nervousness in his gut was entirely unrelated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the angst. The next one isn't all angsty. I promise.


	6. Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW. Like this chapter is basically just smut.

Cullen had read the same sentence three times. He groaned and leaned back in his chair. It was a mistake. The shift in position only emphasized the source of his distraction as the fabric of his pants shifted against his aggravatingly persistent erection.

 

It had been a mistake to train her. His reasoning had felt so sensible at the time.  _ Of course I couldn’t simply let someone else have that kind of access to her.  _

 

It had been a mistake to give her his shirt. His reasoning had felt so sensible at the time.  _ Of course she couldn’t practice wearing a skirt and tight bodice. _

 

It had been a mistake to touch her. His reasoning had felt- No. He could have directed her without being so close, without touching her. He simply wanted to.

 

And now, here he was, unable to focus on his work because he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He closed his eyes and he felt her shiver against him. Was it his touch that caused it? He had spoken softly in her ear and breathed in the scent of her, fresh and lightly herbal. She simply smelled clean.

 

Cullen shook his head, determined to return to work, but when he opened his eyes to the view in his tent, his mind filled in how she might look standing in it wearing nothing but his shirt. She would walk over to him with a mischievous smirk and crawl onto his lap, lifting his shirt a little so she could settle a leg on either side of him, then put her arms around his neck. “You work too hard,” she would whisper in his her. “Let me help you relax.”

 

It was clear he would never get his work done in this state. “Don’t worry so much,” a sympathetic voice in his head that sounded exactly like her purred. “You deserve to be taken care of.” He let out a long slow breath before finally caving and bringing his fingers to his lap and deftly undoing the ties keeping him trapped. 

 

It was still early in the evening. He would have to be quick. It was not too late to rule out someone coming in. 

 

He spat in his hand and reached down to grip himself. He shuddered at the feeling; it had been so long since he had allowed himself even this. He imagined it was her hand, that she had reached down between them with her dainty fingers to show him what her taking care of him could look like. He slowly began stroking, imagining her moving in time with his own hand. She would watch his face, wanting to see the pleasure she was giving him. His breath was quickening already and he brought up the speed of his hand to match.

 

He imagined her crawling down off his lap and kneeling in front of him, not taking her eyes from his face or her hand from his cock. She might lean forward and taste him, sliding her tongue up the underside of his shaft. 

 

Cullen jerked at the image of it, thrusting upwards into his fist with a groan. He closed his eyes again, reckless without a proper door, but he needed to focus on the image of her and the feeling he was creating. He leaned forward and gripped the desk with his free hand, feeling a sweaty curl fall onto his forehead with the motion. He pumped himself faster, working towards the edge. In his mind he watched her smirk disappear as she took him into her mouth. She would still be staring up at him, wanting to see his expression as lost himself in the feel of her mouth. He imagined putting at hand in her hair, telling her how amazing she was as she moaned her agreement around his cock.

 

He was almost at the edge and he realized he was no longer pumping himself but was chaotically thrusting into his hand, lifting himself nearly off his seat with his desperation. His breath hitched as he imagined her, knowing how close he was, giving him that challenging playful look of hers, telling him to come for her. He would grip her hair as he took over his own pleasure, thrusting into her mouth, unable to control his body. He would spill into her mouth and she would smile and take it all, happy at how he lost himself in her. The image did him in. Cullen let out a low groan as his hips stuttered into his hand and he shot himself across the underside of his desk.

 

His head dropped and he pulled open his eyes, slowly relinquishing the image of her. It was an image he shouldn’t have created and he felt immediately guilty for using her in such a way. At the same time, he knew he would be doing it again.


	7. Fighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best read after CH14 of Herald's Prophet.

It had not been his proudest moment, admittedly. He did not typically make a practice of hitting unarmed prisoners. The way she glared at him, he was quite certain he had ruined their relationship. And yet, should it not have been seen as a sign of how much he cared? How angry he was at the many who hurt her? Maybe not. What did he know about romancing women anyways. He glowered into his cup, angry that he was drinking at noon. Angry that he needed it to take the edge off before he would be able to work.

 

“Y’know, if that one didn’t fix your problems then a second might do it.”

 

Cullen looked up to see an unfamiliar barmaid winking at him. “Yeah, maybe,” he responded gruffly as he passed the tankard to her for a refill. “Where’s Flissa?”

 

“She’s in the back taking stock for orders. Is my company not good enough for you?” The woman pouted flirtatiously at him as she slid the full mug towards him. As he reached for it, she pulled it away slightly. “Ah ah. Answer the question first.”

 

“Your company is fine.” He was not in the mood.

 

“Sorry to bother you,” she offered as she let go of his mug, clearly chastised.

 

“No, sorry. I’m in a foul mood. It’s not your fault.” 

 

She popped a wide grin at him. “Maybe I could help? I’m told I have many pleasant and distracting qualities.”

 

Cullen snorted. No wonder Flissa had brought this one in. She laid it on thick and Cullen imagined she was good for a business that serviced a number of lonely male soldiers.  _ Like you. _

 

He properly looked at her for the first time.  _ Her looks certainly didn’t hurt either _ . She was curvy in all the right ways with laughing eyes and blonde hair that landed on her chest at exactly the length to emphasize her exposed cleavage. 

 

“I see you’ve even noticed some of my  _ most  _ distracting qualities.” She laughed and Cullen realized he’d been staring at her breasts.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled and blushed.

 

“Don’t be sorry, love. I don’t parade them around just for myself. What’s the point of having them if you can’t attract the gaze of handsome commanders?”

 

Her glib reaction only reminded him of the indignant way Emma had told him to keep his eyes to himself when they first met and the memory brought on another wave of irritation. Whether with himself or her, he was unsure.

 

“Thanks,” he grunted as he passed back a newly empty cup and a tip and quickly walked out of the tavern.

 

\--

 

He had apologized and she was still yelling at him. This woman was completely infuriating and yet, he wanted nothing more than for her to approve of him- for her to see that he was trying his best. He acquiesced. He felt like maybe that was all he’d ever be able to do around her. She looked at him and he wanted to be a better man. It wasn’t like Kirkwall though, when he’d been driven primarily by shame to do better. There was that still, but also he felt like maybe he was working towards something.

 

When he gave her the daggers, he grinned. He was excited to let her play, and to show off a little while they were at it. She flew about him, quick but sloppy. She laughed, infusing him with her joy. She was easily hurt, but then easily mollified and easily pleased. He felt he could spend a lifetime trying to make her laugh like that again.

 

“Good. You’re more confident with these.”

 

“I still haven’t come even close to hitting you though.”

 

Cullen laughed. Like he was going to make it that easy. “I certainly hope not. If I can be bested by a girl trying out a weapon for the first time, I certainly shouldn’t be commanding an army.”

 

“A girl?” She was glaring at him. Cullen paused. What did he do this time? “I am not  _ a girl,  _ Commander. I am a grown ass woman who will not be condescended to.”

 

“Uhh… right, of course. I apologise. I know you are a woman.”  _ Maker, I am such an idiot. _ Suddenly, she was at his side and tapping him with her dagger.

 

“Tut tut, Commander! So easily distracted… and by  _ a girl  _ no less!” She laughed and pranced away.

 

_ Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be?  _ “It will not happen again, I assure you.”

 

When they stopped again, Cullen felt surprisingly refreshed. They were both covered in sweat and Cullen loved that she seemed completely unconcerned about her state of dishevelment. His borrowed shirt was sticking to her body in ways he tried not to stare at, and even her hair was sticking to her face where it had come loose from her braid. He instinctively reached out to move a piece off her forehead where it framed her eyes. He tucked it behind her ear and she froze.

 

Cullen withdrew, chastising himself, vaguely aware of his own apology. 

 

“-I never thanked you.” He returned to the conversation and found himself lost.

 

“For what?” She was speaking of when she was attacked.  _ She was barely conscious. How did she remember? _

 

But she did, and she was grateful, and she wanted him to call her Emma. And then she called him Cullen and he felt a little fuzzy. And when she demanded to call him Rutherford while training, he laughed. It reminded him of being a young recruit himself- before he had titles. Before he had lived. That man would have been better for her, but perhaps he could get closer to that version of himself after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the angst and fluff. Well, not that sorry. Smutty bits will return. In fact, I'm realising as I work on this POV that there is going to be way more smut than the main fic. Oops!


	8. Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for up to CH17 of Herald's Prophet.

He hadn’t eaten. His stomach vocally reminded him that the kitchens had long since closed. He stretched and pushed away from his desk, and reluctantly made his way to the tavern. It would be noisy at this hour, but he had little choice if he was going to silence his body’s grumbling.

 

He sat at the bar, keeping his head low. “Two days in a row. What a lucky girl I am.” Cullen smirked to himself. Hadn’t he  _ just _ been chastised for calling a woman ‘girl’? 

 

“Kitchens are closed,” he offered by way of explanation. 

 

“Ah. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Cullen had never been one for pet names, but he let it slide. She was just trying to be friendly. 

 

A few minutes later she was back, supplying him with a full plate and ale. He dug in ravenously, only then realizing that she was still hovering. He raised his eyebrows at her.

 

“Just admiring the view. Surprisingly quiet for this time of night and I enjoy watching a handsome man eat.” He blushed at the compliment despite himself. He cleared his throat, kept eating. He had no clever retort. “Aren’t you going to ask my name? Perhaps inquire what I’m doing after my shift is finished?” She leaned forward on the counter, emphasizing her cleavage and placing it directly in his view. 

 

He mentally scrambled for an appropriate response. “I would gladly know your name, however, my time tonight is already spoken for.” 

 

“You can call me Issla, Commander. I do hope to see more of you around, even if much of your time is spoken for.” She turned suddenly. “Ah. Rylen. Shall I get you the usual, gorgeous?”

 

“Please. Thanks Issla.” He looked startled. “Commander, didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

“I worked through dinner. Needed a quick meal before I could finish.” 

 

“You know, Commander,” Rylen said as he slid into the next seat. “If you need some extra support, I could always take that little prophet off your hands. Wouldn’t even feel like work.” 

 

“That will be unnecessary.” Cullen ignored the suggestive tone and finished off his meal.  

 

“You certain? I wouldn’t mind having her on my hands at all. Aye, perhaps in my hands or under ‘em.”

 

“Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant. I assure you we are working just fine together. Your support will not be required.” His jaw clenched and he pushed away from the table, leaving a tip behind him.

 

Rylen chuckled quietly as Cullen marched out of the tavern. 

 

\--

 

She squeaked when he told her he would be the one advancing while she defended and he relished the opportunity to tease her. True to his word, he moved slow. He wanted to bolster her confidence, indulge in the fun she had the previous day. She struggled but he could see he was succeeding. She was having fun. Enough fun to cheekily try and get in a hit-- and wind up in the dirt.

 

He held out his hand to help her out and, reckless thing that she was, she pulled him down on top of her. Cullen threw his arms in front of him, trying desperately to catch himself before he landed on her with an extra fifty pounds of armor about his body. He watched her tiny frame, so close to being crushed, giggle in response to his chastising.

 

“You would never hurt me, Commander.”

 

It shifted in that moment. She was no longer his thoughtless student. She was Emma, and she was laying underneath him and trusting him to keep her safe. “Cullen,” he said. He needed her to say it, to hear that she thought of him as a man and not just a leader of soldiers.

 

“Cullen,” she echoed.

 

“You’re right. I never would.” Cullen looked at her intently, taking her in. She was so beautiful, hair a mess about her, her braid never keeping it all in check for long. He could feel her breathing and he looked at where her lips were slightly parted as she bit the bottom one nervously. He would kiss her, he thought. She looked as though she needed kissing. He freed his hand and reached to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Her eyes widened slightly but she didn’t pull away. “This piece never wants to behave,” he murmured softly.

 

Suddenly, an explosion of fire near them broke into the moment and he quickly reacted to protect her with his body, curling it around her and cradling her head. “Get off of her!” He heard the voice and it registered that this was not a threat intended for Emma, but for him.

 

It happened quickly that John was subdued and Lysette demanded to speak with him. Her tone and posture were formal but he could see the urgency in her eyes.

 

“He has been possessed,” she announced as soon as they were alone.

 

Cullen pressed his eyes closed. An abomination in their midst was the exact sort of thing he had hoped to prevent. He did his best to shift away from that wobbly version of the future he had been constructing in his head and grounded himself in the present- the one where he was the Commander of an army and a group of Templars and he had a town to protect. “Are you certain?”

 

“Yes. I’ve had my suspicions since yesterday but it is now clear. I saw it and felt it just now during its outburst. There is no doubt.”

 

Cullen sighed.  _ This will break her.  _ “Then you know what must be done.” He paused. “Do you believe it is a danger to Emma?”

 

“No, Ser. In fact, I believe it is feeding off his feelings for her.”

 

“Then wait. Take him from the kitchens in the morning. If we can spare her the trauma of seeing him taken away then that is at least a kindness we can offer. Have at least two Templars shadow him until then. Bring him to me at the slightest sign of trouble. I… I should do this myself.”

 

\--

 

Cullen stood and watched her. They had been walking in silence when she stopped and looked out at the lake. He allowed his eyes to travel her face. It was carefully neutral but her eyes glistened. He wanted to gather her into his arms and kiss the wetness from her eyelashes. Instead, he only stood and watched.

 

“Can you tell me what happened? How... why… I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

 

He did his best. He was carefully detached. She didn’t need his feelings right now. She didn’t need to know how his stomach dropped when she talked about her love for a dead man.

 

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” Emma murmured.

 

“Sad?”

 

“Weak.”

 

He looked at her in surprise. “You’re not weak, Emma.” He needed her to understand her worth, what he saw when he looked at her. Cullen took a step towards her and curled a gloved finger under her chin, lifting her face to look into his. “You are not useless. You are not weak.” He emphasized his words fervently. “You are... miraculous.”

 

“I’m not a miracle just because I tell you the future,” she sighed. 

 

“No, you’re not. You are a miracle because you are you.” He startled at his own words. He hadn’t intended to go that far. He knew that wasn’t what she needed right now. Suddenly, she reached her arms around his neck and stood up on her toes to brush her lips softly against his and there was nothing else. He gathered her into his arms. She was so small. Her lips were impossibly soft against his. He moved his own against hers, slow and gentle, scared he might startle her. Scared he might devour her if he didn’t hold back. She sighed his name into his mouth and just as suddenly the world returned. 

 

What was he doing? He shouldn’t be doing this. Not now while she was vulnerable. “I’m sorry. You are upset. I shouldn’t have.”

 

Instead he wiped the tears off her face and when she asked him to hold her, he did.


	9. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter but it tonally didn't work with what came before or after so it shall stand alone! NSFW/Smut

_ Cullen sighed. He had been here before, many times. He looked around at his old room in Kinloch, willing a way out of the dream. The last thing he needed was these images of a dead woman. What would have been a pleasant diversion had long since become a horror show. His youthful feelings for a mage had been scary, but fun in their own way. Then she had saved the world and died in the process and it all melted together with the horrors of his past. _

 

_ He felt warm hands slide their way up his legs from underneath the sheets. Clenching his eyes closed he whispered a prayer to the Maker. He could get through this, he had before. Soft lips nibbled and kissed his torso. Despite himself, he felt his dream body responding, his cock growing hard. He heard a soft giggle. “So easy to please, Commander.” _

 

_ Cullen opened his eyes in surprise. That wasn’t the voice he was expecting and his current title had never made it into these dreams before. Emma’s face looked up from his chest. She kissed over his nipple and smirked at him. He smiled back at her, pulling her up to his face and peppering kisses all over it. This was suddenly a dream he could handle- a dream he was surprised had not occurred yet. A tiny itch of guilt remembered all she had been through recently and how he had taken advantage but it was squashed quickly with one look at her naked body hovering over his. _

 

_ He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her under him. “I’m glad you’re here.” _

 

_ “Me too,” she breathed. _

 

_ Cullen leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, slowly rocking himself against her. “Stop teasing me,” she whispered into his ear. He groaned and devoured her mouth with his own, biting her bottom lip and palming at a breast in his sudden desperation. He couldn’t taste enough of her. He would sate himself on her body, even if only in a dream- because it was only a dream. He thought of nothing but his own desire made manifest in his mind as he bit into her neck, gripping her hip with one hand and rutting against her like a man possessed. _

 

_ “I want you, Cullen. Please.” She panted underneath him, eyes blown wide with lust. That was all he needed. He shoved her leg to the side with his own and aligned himself with her body. He shuddered all over, the dream felt so real. He thrust forward, sheathing himself completely with a grunt. She was warm and wet and his. A wave of possessiveness washed over him. _

 

_ “Tell me how much you want me.” He growled the words into her ear dragging himself slowly out of her before slamming back in. _

 

_ She gasped. “Cullen. Please.”  _

 

_ “Tell me.” He bit her ear and surged into her again eliciting a desperate cry from her mouth. _

 

_ “More than anything. Please, I need you. I need more.” Her fingers clutched at him, digging into his back. _

 

_ “Show me.” She grinned and pushed him off her. Cullen reached to pull her back into him and she pushed him away again. He looked at her, puzzled at his dream suddenly challenging him. _

 

_ She pushed him over and onto his back. “You said to show you,” she said as she moved down his body, dragging fingernails along his stomach as she went. She blew a soft breath across his shaft, cooling her wetness that was slick on his skin. His cock jumped at the sensation and she giggled. She wrapped her hand around him and licked up the side before slowly wrapping her lips around his head. He felt the swirl of her tongue and bucked up towards her. “Patience, Commander,” she chastised. He took in a deep breath, stilling himself. She smirked before swallowing him into her mouth again. He watched himself disappear behind her lips with a moan and reached for her, burying his hands in her dark hair. She moved up and down his shaft slowly, challenging his self-restraint. He let out a noise of frustration and quickly pulled his hands away before he lost control and pushed her down deeper onto him. “So well trained,” she murmured, her lips moving against the head of his cock while she stroked his slick length with her hand. “What a good Templar you are, holding yourself back like this. Just let me take care of you.” _

 

_ A shadow moved behind her and suddenly she was hauled back by her hair. Uldred drew a sharp talon across her throat, spilling blood down her chest. _

 

He woke, gasping and drenched in sweat.

 

He woke, knowing three things for certain. First, it was not his imagination. His dreams definitely were getting more vivid. Second, he was a blasphemous and unworthy man. And third, he needed to stay away before he did worse than kiss her.


	10. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best read after reading Chapter 19 of Herald's Prophet.
> 
> \-- In lieu of a bonus chapter from the main fic this week (it will be updated tomorrow), have a little bit of Cullen!--

 

He had been avoiding her, there was no denying it. That she cared and she cornered him to apologise, of all things, only made it worse. He had knelt in front of her and promised his friendship.  _ Lies.  _ His mind was screaming at him. He was making promises he could not keep. He restlessly tapped the side of his mug. When had he started drinking so much? Perhaps it was helping drown out the call of lyrium, it certainly wasn’t helping drown out the call of  _ her _ . 

 

“You want to try the ‘talking to the bartender’ thing tonight instead of the ‘sullenly drinking in the corner’ thing?”

 

“Not much in the talking mood.”

 

“So stoic.” She mocked him with an exaggerated pout, crossing her arms across her chest in a way that only served to accentuate ample cleavage.

 

He sighed. Would there really be any harm in sharing? She was simply a serving girl. It wasn’t as though he had to work with her. “I suppose I’m having woman troubles, if you must know.”

 

“Ah. You have a woman. You should have said so. My self-esteem was beginning to suffer.”

 

“I do not  _ have  _ a woman,” he grumbled. “What I have is an ill-advised infatuation.”

 

She giggled, a tittering laugh clearly cultivated from years of practice charming people. “Well, Commander, that is only trouble because the solution has been staring at you this whole time and you have simply been too blind to see it.”

 

He raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue.

 

“Have sex with someone else,” she grinned. “Preferably often. Tough to be hung up on one silly woman when you’re cock deep in something fun.”

 

Cullen’s mouth dropped at the bluntness. “Maker’s breath! I- No. That would not be... No. I am the Commander here and I should not be seen making an appearance at a brothel.”

 

“Oh, you sweet man. I wasn’t suggesting you visit the whores. You need to fuck someone who actually wants to fuck you, not someone in it for the money. You need someone who finds you immensely appealing and wants to show you a good time. In short, you need me.”

 

Cullen stared, unsure how to process what was happening. “I don’t understand.”

 

Issla rolled her eyes. “Let’s you and me have some fun. I don’t care that you’re making eyes at some woman. I just want to be taken for a ride.” She winked, the meaning of ‘ride’ becoming extremely clear.

 

“I- Thank you for the -uhh- offer.” He cleared his throat. “I will think on it.” He nearly fled the tavern, Issla’s laughter following him out.

 

\--

 

“What do you mean she is missing?” 

 

“Calm down, Cullen. I have scouts looking for her all around the woods. There was no sign of an abduction. She likely wandered and got lost.”

 

“She can barely put up a fight. Any number of trained professionals could have taken her without leaving a trace.” He did not understand how the spymaster could be so calm about such an important asset disappearing under her nose.

 

Cassandra entered the tent. “Ah. Good. I see you have been informed. I have sent a messenger to wake the Herald with instructions to meet us in the war room. We should head there now.”

 

“We need to make a plan,” Cullen insisted.

 

“Which we will do, Commander, once we’ve convened with Josephine and the Herald. Come.”

 

Frustrated, he followed the women across Haven with a multiplicity of thoughts racing through his head. Once again he had failed to protect her and there was no telling what the results of his failure would be.

 

Not looking, he bumped into a messenger scurrying out of the Chantry. The man mumbled some type of apology without stopping, practically racing out of the building. He walked into the war room to the sight of an extremely entertained looking Josephine. A spike of fury hit him in the chest and he could feel his face twitching.  _ How dare she be so cavalier about this?  _ He bit his tongue, letting cooler heads do the talking for now.

 

“The Herald is not here yet.” The fact was obvious but Cullen could tell Cassandra merely needed to communicate her annoyance to the room.

 

“I don’t believe he will be joining us.” Josephine’s amusement rang through her voice and Cullen’s opinion of her plummeted. “It seems he has elected to sleep in this morning and that our prophet is with him.”

 

“Ugh.” Cassandra’s noise signalled her utter disdain for anything to follow that announcement as she turned and left the room.

 

Cullen felt frozen. Emma was with the Herald. She was, it seemed,  _ with  _ the Herald. He didn’t know why he felt so shell-shocked. The Herald was handsome and charming and Cullen had certainly done nothing to suggest she should focus her attentions on him instead. He had pushed her away. He had resolved that he would not be good for her and he would not pursue that path. Still, he had never considered that she would not be there, waiting for him to change his mind. He’d had a small feeling that at some point he would have a chance to kiss her again, feel her tiny frame in his arms, the soft press of her lips against his own. He felt the loss of that idea keenly in that moment. “Excuse me,” he murmured as he left the two women to their conjecturing. 

 

He knew what he needed to do.


	11. Ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best read after CH20 of Herald's Prophet.

Cullen made his way to the tavern. It was still morning, though late, would she be working? He walked into the half empty room, scanning for her. She wasn’t there. He let out a long, low breath- half disappointed, half relieved. 

 

He spotted her as he walked out the door. “Commander,” she purred as she placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you here to see me?”

 

“Oh- I- Umm… Yes.” He was suddenly extremely nervous. “I am but I can come back. You must be going to work.”

 

“Nonsense,” she giggled. “I can certainly spare a few moments for you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her to a corner between two buildings. She promptly dropped to her knees and began pulling at the draws on his trousers.

 

“Maker’s breath! Issla, what are you doing?” He hissed at her.

 

“Is this not why you are here?” She grinned up at him. “Don’t got time for a full round but I’m sure you’ll get me back later.” She winked.

 

He was going to protest. This wasn’t what he’d intended-- outside, her knees in the dirt, leaning against a building where anyone could see him. But then her mouth was on his cock and all thoughts stopped for a moment and he wheezed in surprise. His blood rushed to harden him inside her mouth so quickly that he vaguely worried he might faint. 

 

He looked down at her, watched her lips moving up and down his shaft and when she swirled her tongue around his head, he gripped her hair and held her in place with a groan. She deftly moved her tongue against him, even as he held her head still. When he released her, she began bobbing up and down again, her wet lips smoothly sliding along his length. 

 

He closed his eyes and he remembered his dream, the image of Emma’s lips on him still fresh in his mind. He felt a wave of desire rush through him and his cock pulsed in response.  _ Don’t picture her, Rutherford. That’s not going to help you get over her.  _ He looked down again at Issla’s smirking face, surrounded by all that blonde hair. A completely different image, it brought him back to the moment. He was close already. He sunk his fists into her hair, encouraging her to go faster, to swallow him deeper, and she responded with enthusiasm. His hips stuttered as he spurted into her mouth. He bit his lip to keep from crying out and managed a barely contained grunt.

 

Her lips pulled away and she spit his spend into the dirt. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you,” he offered. He reached down to help pull her up. 

 

“Not a problem, handsome.” She shot him a quick smile and passed the back of her hand over her lips. “See you later.” With those words, she left him for work. She left him to support himself against the wall, his pants still down around his knees. He hurriedly righted himself and took a few deep breaths. A tiny voice from somewhere in his mind wondered if Emma had ever taken Maxwell in her mouth and a spike of jealousy ran through his stomach. He quickly stumbled back towards the command tent.

 

Or at least, he took a few steps and rounded the corner to see Varric leaning against a crate and twirling a crossbow bolt in one hand. “Really, Curly?”

 

“Maker’s breath- what are you doing here?” 

 

Varric snorted. “Like I wasn’t going to wait around to see what was up when I saw you dragged away by a bosomy blonde. Good choice of partner but I have to wonder at your choice of location.”

 

“It wasn’t my-”  _ Wait? Why am I responding to this?  _ “It’s none of your business.”

 

Varric shrugged. “Just a little surprised. You’ve been making eyes at Visions practically since she got here. Didn’t think you were the type to dip your quill in multiple inkwells, if you catch my meaning.”

 

“Quite. You are hardly subtle, Varric. Emma is with the Herald and I have… moved on.” The lie came awkwardly and Varric’s expression said it was not believable. “Excuse me.” He brushed passed the dwarf, doing his best to look purposeful and busy.

 

\--

 

As so often happened to him these days, Cullen wasn’t quite sure how he came to be here: Removing his armor and laying in the dirt next to Emma. He explicitly recalled telling her to train with someone else, and then telling her to go relax somewhere else. 

 

And yet.

 

Here he was trying his best to feel the ground, the dirt, the sun - all so he could understand her a bit better. Maybe also so she would see him differently. So she would see him as a man and not the commander of the Inquisition’s forces.  _ Maker’s Breath, Cullen. Get a hold of yourself. You’re supposed to be letting her go. _

 

He wanted to make her laugh.

 

“You know, looking at the map the other day… I thought Lake Calenhad looked a bit like a bunny.” He smiled, pleased with himself when she became subsumed by giggles. He’d thought it a fairly weak attempt but she seemed to like his sense of humour. The thought made him tingle with pleasure. 

 

“We must tell, Leliana,” she teased.

 

“Absolutely not.” He would though, if it made her happy. 

 

“I think I will. And Maxwell too. He’ll love it.”

 

_ Oh. Right. _

 

\--

 

“I had felt we should do something nice for her. Josephine made a few suggestions but we thought you might know best what she would appreciate.”

 

Cullen blinked in surprise. “You thought I would know?”

 

“You spend the most time with her.”

 

“I- This is hardly my area of expertise, Cassandra. I would end up giving her a weapon as though she were one of my soldiers.”

 

“That is actually a lovely idea,” Leliana responded. “She has been training a great deal. Procuring weapons for her would be a nice way to recognize the work she has been doing to expand her capabilities.”

 

“But we should perhaps make them more than a standard set up daggers. Something designed specific to her would be more appropriate. We should ask Harritt to make something special.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Cullen blurted. “I’ll design something with Harritt.”

 

_ Maker. What are you doing, Rutherford? _


	12. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best read after Ch22 of Herald's Prophet.

He was awake. He’d been chastising himself for hours. He had no idea what he was doing. Why had he agreed- no, offered to design blades for someone he was trying not to think about. Should that responsibility not belong to the Herald as her lover? A stab of jealousy jerked him out of bed and he began pacing around the tent. If he were taking lyrium, he was sure he could sleep away these thoughts. 

 

He went for a walk around Haven, desperately hoping to outpace his obsession. It was not to be.  _ What is she doing wandering at this hour?  _ He strode purposefully after her and she seemed to be speeding up. Cullen reached out grabbed her wrist. “Wait,” he said. A fist flying towards his face was easily caught. “Whoa, whoa. Emma, it’s me.” 

 

“Cullen? You scared me,” she whispered. Of course he had. He cursed himself softly. She had been attacked so recently. Regardless, he needed to keep things professional. 

 

“You shouldn’t be walking around alone at night.”

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said as though that somehow explained away her silliness. He somehow found himself offering to accompany her on a walk to the lake. 

 

“It’s nice to see you out of armour twice in a row.” He started.  _ Is it? Why?  _ Her hand was on his chest and he was distracted by how cool it was through his thin shirt. He was fairly certain he could hear his own heartbeat. Could she feel it? “There’s a real person under all that metal. Sometimes you seem so much larger than life.”

 

“Emma. Of course I am only a person.” If only she had seen that before it was too late. The air felt thick and difficult to swallow. How could he be around her anymore?

 

“Well, you are very tall.”

 

He laughed. She had the ability to turn moments on a whim that he completely lacked. He would have stood there, silent or stuttering until the moment became too awkward to bear. “Perhaps you are simply very short.”

 

“Taller than Varric!” She darted towards the lake. He followed, a smile upon his face and his concerns momentarily forgotten.

 

\--

 

Maker, but he was an idiot. She had never been with the Herald. It changed everything. He looked down at her, walking beside him in the glow of a dawning sun. She looked at him and smiled, her eyes reflecting the Breach rather than the rising sun back at him and looking all the more green for the yellow and pink backdrop. 

 

No, he decided. He was wrong before. It changed nothing. He was still the man who had kissed her when she was suffering the loss of someone she loved. He was the man who had let another woman suck his cock while he thought of her. He was a broken man and he had nothing to offer anyone as a real partner.

 

She moved away from him silently, heading towards the group that was getting ready to leave. She touched his arm in farewell and it tingled where she had made contact. He absentmindedly put a hand over the spot as he watched her walk away before turning and heading to the command tent. 

 

He took a look at the piles of paperwork amassed on his desk and let out a low groan.  _ Another day, another-  _ A rustling caused him to turn his head sharply. Blonde waves were spread about his pillow. The woman they were attached to was stretching as she woke. “‘Bout time you got back,” she mumbled. “Been waiting here for hours.” She stood up from his bed and she was completely nude. 

 

“Maker, Issla! You are aware that this is also my work space? What if I was someone else?”

 

She laughed as she approached him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Then I imagine they would have reason to be very jealous.”

 

Cullen struggled to think of how to respond, of what he was supposed to do in this situation. How was it this woman left him completely stunned by her forwardness nearly every time he saw her? She rolled her eyes and took his hands, bringing them to her breasts. He stared as they began to move of their own accord. Without thought he began massaging them and rolling her nipples between his fingers. Andraste’s knickers, her breasts were wonderfully plump and large in his hands. He felt himself reacting as his trousers became tighter. A hand reached down and rubbed him through the fabric. “Ready to come back to bed yet?” 

 

“We shouldn’t. Someone could come by, needing something.”

 

“All the more reason to get going before they do. It’s barely dawn, Commander, and I’m  _ so _ wet for you.” To emphasize her point she brought Cullen’s hand between her legs, dragging his fingers through her juices with a moan. She took a step backwards, laying herself across his bed. “Hurry up, handsome.”

 

He realized that he hadn’t thought about Emma, despite just leaving her, since Issla revealed herself. This had to be a better plan than trying to berate himself into feeling differently and the incredibly naked woman before him was certainly willing to play the part of distraction. He tore his shirt over his head and began undoing his bottoms, dropping them in a heap next to his armour stand. He crawled over top of her and lowered his face to hers. Two fingers pressed against his lips. “Don’t kiss me unless you mean it, Commander. I’m here to for fun, not feelings.” He nodded and Issla moved the hand lower, grasping his length and guiding him into her entrance.

 

Cullen rocked his hips a little, testing the feeling of being inside her, figuring out how they would move together. She pushed back against him, firm and purposeful, and grabbed his ass to pull him harder into her. Cullen began to thrust into her with a bit more force, responding to her body’s eagerness. “Wait,” she laughed. He stilled immediately and she brought a leg up over his shoulder. On instinct, the hand he wasn’t leaning on moved up to hold it there and he started pumping into her again with the new angle. “Oh yes,” she moaned. “Much better.” He watched her bring a hand down to her clit and begin rubbing herself. “Fuck yes. That’s good.” She tilted her head backwards, exposing her throat. He watched her throat vibrate with her cries.

 

Part of him wanted to put a hand over her mouth to shut her up. Another part of him wanted her to wake up the whole camp. 

 

He closed his eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock moving inside her, working actively towards his finish. He moved faster. He felt the slap of his balls against her ass. He kept thrusting, gripping her thigh where it rested on his shoulder. He was vaguely aware of her cries growing louder but he wasn’t sure until he felt her constricting around his length. He grunted and pulled out. He pumped his length with his hand and pictured  _ her _ wearing his shirt, sweaty and clinging to her body. He came onto Issla’s stomach with the image of Emma’s knowing smirk in his mind.

 

He was quite certain he was a damned man.


	13. Daggers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting two chapters today since this one doesn't really include anything new. It's literally just a POV change on a scene. :) Enjoy!

Cullen was irritated. He had a headache that stabbed at him with irregular intervals and the recruits were  _ not  _ paying attention as they should be. At least it appeared that Blackwall was having a good time with the newest bunch. The man bowed.  _ What is he- Emma.  _ Cullen waved, thinking to take a break and say hello. She often made him smile and his headaches didn’t seem so bad with her around. 

 

He pursed his lips. Why was Blackwall going to talk to her. He wasn’t aware that they were more than barely acquainted. He pushed down the irrational jealousy that had begun to fester in his stomach. She could have as many suitors as she liked. He had no claims to her. He wanted no claim to her.

 

Maker, he was sleeping with another woman. He needed to stop this irrational obsession.

 

He turned back to the mess that was in front of him, determined to forget she was there. His head hurt possibly even worse than before. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to distract his mind from the pain. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see her beside him.

 

“Hey you, are you feeling okay?” The casual and affectionate way she said it was disarming. Of course she would offer to help. It was just his luck that she would continue to care even after he had tried to create some distance between them. He needed her to focus her attentions elsewhere.

 

“It is my burden to bear.” He paused. “I have something for you.”  _ Might as well do this now.  _ He desperately wanted to get away from the horrid display in front of him, in any case.

 

“Oh? Like a present?”

 

A blush spread warmly across his cheeks. “I- sort of. From the Inquisition, of course.”

 

Despite himself, he felt nervous and a little giddy as he handed her the package. He was almost certain she would love it. It was a chance to make her smile, instead of how things usually went. She unwrapped the daggers tenderly, running her hands along the surfaces with wonder.

 

“It’s stormheart and silverite. It seemed appropriate.” 

 

“So stormheart because I’m temperamental and I’ve yelled at you a few too many times?”

 

Why had he said anything? Of course now he would have to explain. “There is that. But no. I- it feels silly now. Nevermind.” Perhaps she would let it drop?

 

She merely watched him, waiting. He had no choice now. “They’re the colours of your eyes. They’re silvery but then, outside, in the light of the Breach they flash green and reflect the storm up there. It makes you look…”  _ Wild, strong, passionate. Radiant. _ Of course, he couldn’t say those things. “Turn it over.” 

 

“Cullen, they’re beautiful…” she breathed. He dared to look at her and he was gripped by their expression. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.” She put a hand on his cheek, impossibly soft despite how much she had been training. He closed his eyes. When was the last time someone had touched him like that?

 

It didn’t matter. He needed to move on.

 

“I almost forgot. There is this as well, though it’s not been personalized.” He brought out the sheaths and harness for the daggers as a distraction.

 

“Could you help me put it on?” The image of himself touching her and wrapping her in the straps made his veins burn. He definitely shouldn’t.

 

He nodded.

 

He moved in front of her, leaning close as he wrapped the belt around her hips. He smelled her hair. Fresh, herbal, a little citrus. A meadow after a summer rain. He tightened the belt, carefully avoiding touching her and then dropped to his knees in front of her, taking a leg strap. He stopped and looked up at her. “Is this okay?”

 

She nodded. If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure if he was okay. Cullen licked his lips, hesitating. He wrapped a hand around the back of her thigh and guided her leg forward, placing her foot on his knee, fighting off the urge to run that hand upwards. To feel her everywhere. He wrapped the leg band around her, trying not to touch her too much because each time he did, he felt a tingle that ran straight through his body. He slowly switched legs. He was torn, wanting to keep space and not wanting the moment to finish. He imagined helping her to dress in other contexts. Perhaps subverting that moment and demanding she undress again first.

 

A spear of pain rammed its way straight through his head. He flinched inwards, taken by surprise. He had nearly forgotten about his head.

 

“Cullen? What’s wrong? How can I help?” He heard her voice, felt her touch on his face, as he slowly came back to awareness. He looked at his hands. He was gripping her thigh, one hand high enough to feel the heat coming from between her legs. The warmth travelled straight to his cock and he felt himself stiffen even as he released her.

 

“I’m sorry, I- This headache hits me in waves. I didn’t mean to grab at you like that.” 

 

“It’s okay. You must be in a lot of pain.” She swiped a bead of sweat that had formed on his brow with her thumb. “Please tell me how I can help.”

 

He couldn’t. Every bit he let her in was unfair to her. “It’s just a bad day. I can handle this.”

 

She pushed. She pushed and he snapped at her and she snapped back. That’s when he saw what the look on her face was saying plainly. “Maker’s breath. You already know, don’t you?”

 

She knew him so well, somehow. She watched him and saw through the veneer of coping he thought he put on so well- because she cared.  _ Cullen, if I didn’t see you… I’d have to care a lot less than I do.  _ Her words echoed in his head.

 

He couldn’t help it. He needed to touch her, to reach out and touch her face to ensure she was a real person and really there. “You care about me.” It didn’t make sense. She should be worried about herself, she didn’t have space for all the rubbish he had in his head. He brought his forehead to hers, resting it against her. “Emma…”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I don’t want you to worry about me. You have enough to carry on your shoulders. This was my choice and I need to get through it on my own.”

 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when she pulled away and looked at him with such disappointment. “You’re wrong, Cullen. So, so wrong. I’m not going to force my help on you but if you ever change your mind or even just have a bit of doubt, I will be here.”

 

He watched her leave, unsure whether to follow. He’d done the right thing, he was certain. So how had he so clearly messed this up?


	14. Intimate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting two chapters today since the last one didn't include much new. If you haven't read it yet though, pop backwards one before reading this one.
> 
> Best read after Herald's Prophet CH26

He watched Leliana walk off with Emma, unsure how he’d just been so thoroughly scolded for  _ caring.  _ He glared at Blackwall. “You should not have gotten her so drunk.”

 

“With all due respect, I’m not sure anyone can make her do anything,” he grumbled. “Why do you think I had to resort to physically hauling her out of there?”

 

Cullen pressed his lips together tightly. “Of course. I... owe you an apology for thinking the worst when I saw you carrying her in that manner. You have given me no reason to believe you would do such a thing.”

 

Blackwall clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry about it, Commander. Maker knows she’s caused me to say and do some pretty stupid shit as well. She’s one beguiling woman.” With those words, the warden walked away, leaving Cullen to seethe at the idea that the man had something special with Emma- something similar to what Cullen had.

 

Which was ridiculous. They were friends and she had every right to be friends with whomever she chose. Even slightly flirtatious friends with men who were significantly older than her but who were noble and good men and could offer her more than he ever could.

 

Maker damn him.

 

\--

 

It was the most intimate he had ever been with another person. He had never had another person touch him like that, look at him like that, accept his vulnerability like that. He had expected someone like her to be repulsed by the lines criss-crossing his body. She had never seen battle. She was soft and whole, gentle and joyful. He was… not. And yet she had run her fingers over the marks like they were nothing.

 

They were part of him and therefore they were not repulsive. 

 

He’d fought internally the entire time. Running away and gathering her in his arms to ravish her both seemed like perfectly reasonable things to do in that moment.

 

He was grateful that he’d done neither.

 

“Are you alright, Ser?”

 

Cullen brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose, pinching to focus. He’d been distracted all day. “Sorry, Lysette. Can we pick this up tomorrow?”

 

The woman nodded and left Cullen to stare thoughtlessly at the maps strewn across his desk. Maker but he wanted some lyrium. Just enough to help him focus. 

 

He shook his head as if to clear it. Not that it worked, of course.

 

He sighed.

 

At some point a pair of hands snaked around the side of his head and in front of his eyes and hot breath ghosted across his ear. “I heard you were having a hard time focusing.”

 

He tensed. “What do you mean?”

 

“Just Lysette came in saying she was done early because you had a headache. Now,” she shifted and moved around to Cullen’s front, “let me help you get rid of it.” She smirked at him as she began to pull at the draws on his trousers. 

 

_ I’m not going to force my help on you but if you ever change your mind… _

 

He wasn’t in the mood. He reached out and put a hand on Issla’s wrist. “Not right now.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, pouting at him before the smirk returned. “You just need a little convincing.” Her hands starting working again.

 

He stood, firmly pushing her back a step. “No. I don’t. I’m not in the mood.” 

 

“Well then. You  _ are _ in a bad mood.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m busy all night so you’re on your own if you decide you have needs later.” She flitted out of the tent.

 

Part of him felt a little guilty but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to fuck her after everything that happened that morning. He’d never experienced anything like it.

 

He sat down again, dropping his head to his desk.

 

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to fuck her ever again. 


	15. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is best read after CH29 of Herald's Prophet.

Maker, but it was loud in here. Cassandra had needed a drink after Val Royeaux and he was happy to oblige but the raucous partying inspired by the Herald’s return was pulling at his headache in unfortunate ways. 

 

“How are you doing,” she asked kindly. “Without the lyrium?” It was in that moment he realized he had been rubbing harshly at his temples. She sometimes surprised him when she went soft and warm, she was so good at the no-nonsense persona.

 

“It’s up and down. There are definitely moments when I-”

 

“Emma!” The Herald’s shout could be heard over everything. Emma had indeed entered the tavern. She somehow moved with grace through the chaos. He’d noticed it, as training continued she grew more lithe, nimble, and poised. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she teased the Herald who -  _ Maker’s breath, really? -  _ was standing on the bar by this point.

 

His eyes returned to her and she was looking right at him, a bemused grin playing across her lips. He was smiling back before he realized it, hoping she would come over. She turned away and moved towards Varric and Blackwall.  _ Of course.  _ She probably hung out with them all the time.

 

Emma leaned forward and planted a kiss on Varric’s cheek and Cullen felt his stomach jump into his throat. It wasn’t that he thought there was something between her and the dwarf, it was that he didn’t realize she was so free with her affections. At least, she wasn’t with him. Something disturbingly close to jealousy was bubbling inside him - over Varric of all people.

 

“You really must do something about this.”

 

Cullen blinked. What were they talking about again? Ah. Lyrium. “I assure you that I am doing my best to cope and I do not let the pain interfere with my work.”

 

An irritated grunt dismissed his words. “I am referring to your obvious feelings for Lady Bennett.”

 

“I- what?” He flicked his eyes towards her and back to Cassandra guiltily.

 

“Do not play the fool, Cullen. It is completely apparent and frustrating to watch. Either give it up or act on your feelings. This watching from a distance is doing neither of you any good.”

 

Almost without his awareness, his eyes drifted back towards Emma. “No, it’s-” The Herald, apparently no longer on the bar, had reached for her chin and pulled her into a rough kiss. Cullen distantly heard a tiny growl emanate from his throat in response. Cassandra’s raised eyebrow showed it was more audible than he’d briefly hoped. There was no use pretending. “She deserves better than me,” he sighed. “I have too much damage to work through. I should just move on.”

 

Cassandra leaned forward, matching his quiet tone. “Are you certain? Being with someone who cares about you might help.”

 

“She should be with someone like the Herald. Someone her own age, with energy and who hasn’t been beaten down by life yet.”

 

Cassandra pursed her lips. “I don’t think she’s that young.” She stopped and looked up. Cullen turned his head as Emma approached the table. “I don’t want to interrupt.” She looked hesitant.

 

“You’re not.” Cullen quickly stood and pulled out a chair for her. He was amazed he hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by her expressions and  _ the kissing _ , that she was wearing a dress. Maker, how it hugged her hips. She looked willowy and feminine. Touchable. “I’m afraid we won’t be as entertaining as the table you just left, however.” He let his eyes roam her body, following the lines he hadn’t seen in loose tunics and ill fitting jackets. He should probably stop staring at her.

 

“That table might be just a little too boisterous for my mood tonight. Besides, I make Sera uncomfortable so I thought I’d give her some space.” She sat in the offered chair.

 

The light blue fabric really set off her creamy skin nicely, making the light freckles dabbled across her face pop. And the way the neckline sloped around her collarbone and down over soft breasts was perfection. He wanted to run his tongue across-

 

He wasn’t listening. He quickly turned away focused all his attention on what was being said. 

 

“I trust you are pleased with Lord Trevelyan’s gifts?” 

 

“Gifts?” Cullen asked.

 

Emma smiled. “He brought me back some new clothing from the city. Didn’t you notice my pretty, new dress?” 

 

_ Of course, Trevelyan would be responsible for making her look like Andraste in the flesh.  _ “I tend not to be very observant about your attire.” He responded stiffly, grumpy about the source of his distraction. He blushed. It came out harsher than he’d intended. “It’s a lovely colour on you.”

 

“To answer your question though, I’m completely thrilled. He must have made good friends with the shopkeepers. I can’t imagine he simply had a natural affinity for picking out women’s clothing.” Emma was smirking at a blushing Cassandra and Cullen got the distinct impression he was missing something. Before he had a chance to ask, Cassandra was speaking again.

 

“Do you still believe the Herald does not have feelings for you?” Cullen sharply inhaled in surprise as he was trying to drink his ale and promptly began coughing and choking. Cassandra shot him a look that told him to get it together and pay attention.

 

“Firmly,” was the response. Cullen swallowed hard, the sound of his heart echoing loudly in his ears. At least if it was audible to others it could be explained by the choking.

 

“Even after he kissed you just now?” He had to admit, the woman had balls. Or perhaps it was just her distaste for niceties.

 

“I think Maxwell has more charm than to demand a kiss of gratitude from me if he was really angling for my affections. Now perhaps we could also speak about something other than my  _ absent _ love life?”

 

“Yes. We can,” Cullen said firmly. He fixed an intense stare at Cassandra who pretended not to notice.

 

\--

 

Cullen stared at her across the war table. As if he didn’t have enough hang ups about her, now she speaks three languages? Perhaps she’s not a noble, but she might as well be given her position and her education. They wanted her to play the Game and she had the skills to do it with some training. It was like she was being taken away from him, somehow.

 

“What do you think, Commander?” Right, his attention was required. His mind kept flitting in and out of the planning to images of her getting her throat sliced while on a mission in Orlais, or in having her heart stolen by some bougie Orlesian noble with a giant estate who could-  _ Focus, Rutherford. _

 

Cullen pressed his eyes closed. “You’re right, it is a lot - but I trust Emma, unreservedly.”

 

“Great. It’s settled then. I’ll accompany this man to meet his leader. Where is the meeting point?”

 

“The Storm Coast.”

 

“Oh, you’re bloody kidding me. Maker’s hairy ballsack! Can’t we just send a missive inviting him here?” Cullen chuckled to himself. He remembered that miserable place, having traveled through on his way from Kirkwall. He could understand the reticence. The cold and wet soaked into your bones and had a propensity for turning attitudes nasty.

 

“You’ll have good company at least.”

 

“This Krim is a good bloke then?”

 

“It’s Krem, and yes… but also I’m coming.”

 

It was instinctual. The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think through a more appropriate response. “Absolutely not.” At the same time, he heard Trevelyan’s enthusiastic words nearly drowning his own. “Wonderful!”

 

“It seems a rather unnecessary risk, Emma.” Thank the Maker that Josephine was sensible. 

 

“I want to go. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines while others endanger themselves based on  _ my  _ words.”

 

“It’s too dangerous.” He could not allow it. He couldn’t lose her to demons, or bandits, or any of the other dangers they faced on the road.

 

“So much for trusting me  _ unreservedly, _ ” she shot at him. He nearly blushed. It had become an instinctual reaction when she challenged him; she was so often right. This time, he knew it was too much to risk. He would not back down.

 

“Don’t worry Commander. I’ll keep our little Emma out of danger and bring her home to you safe and sound.” 

 

Cullen glowered. How could he be willing to take such a risk? Perhaps he did not care for her as much as Cullen had thought. “I won’t allow it.”

 

“It’s not your call to make.”

 

Cullen flexed and unflexed his fist, pulling on all his reserves of control not to punch the Herald in his face. The man was glaring back at him, unwavering. 

 

Emma’s voice cut through the tension.  “For crying out loud! Okay, that’s enough. I won’t go.” She turned and marched out of the war room and Maxwell quickly followed her out. Cullen slumped, both relieved and defeated in that moment.

 

“You should be ashamed of your behaviour.” Leliana’s admonishment caused him to bristle briefly before he deflated further.

 

“It was not well done of me, I admit. I am not wrong about her going, however.”

 

Josephine clucked soothingly. “It is dangerous, yes. Yet nearly starting a brawl in the middle of a council is not acceptable.”

 

“Agreed,” he sighed.


End file.
